


Empathy is Human

by chillychocolate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Lance (Voltron) Angst, Lance (Voltron)-centric, the team are amazing friends and i love them all
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:01:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillychocolate/pseuds/chillychocolate
Summary: “I think we’re some sort of science experiment – there’s cameras in here as well.”Lance looked towards the corners of the room and saw that there were, indeed, bulbous glass eyes observing them, almost silently whirring away as they unseeingly gazed upon the pair. “This is creepy.” He said to Hunk, who hummed in agreement. They were both still wearing their armour, yet Lance felt exposed and vulnerable knowing that his every movement was being watched from all angles by beings far more intelligent and colder than he.“So, what now?” He asked uncertainly.As if to answer his question, the door opened, and a tall, angular figure loomed in the space revealed.***Ok so basically the team get captured by an alien race that can't feel empathy, and they do a sort of social experiment on them. Lance has the choice to either let himself or his other paladins get hurt (if you can guess what he chooses, you're a genius), and there will be 4 chapters, each one a one-on-one with Lance getting hurt and another paladin.Enjoy! x





	1. Experiment 1: Hunk Garrett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hunk chapter!! Can I get a heck yeah for platonic Hance?!!

Lance groaned as he opened his eyes groggily. His head pounded, the persistent pain pulsing behind his eyes like his beating heart, blood rushing around his brain like static. The scene before him didn’t help either, the strips of harsh white lighting engrained themselves into his vision, burning his pupils… wait. What?!

The run-up to this situation flooded his mind. They’d landed on planet Ferreus in hope of forming an alliance. Allura had explained that the Ferreun were an extremely logical and scientifically-focused race, with the inability to feel compassion or empathy for others. She hoped that in forming an alliance, by explaining how their race would be better off from under the clutches of a Galran dictatorship, the rebellion would have access to a wide range of advanced weaponry and tech, possibly even more so than their alliance with Olkarion provided. At least, that was the plan. 

When the five humans approached the Ferreun leader, they were attacked on all sides. Ferreun were angular and thin, and reminded Lance of stick insects as they crept toward them on four legs, the other two armed with weapons that easily overpowered and incapacitated the paladins. He remembered screaming – and now here he was, lying on the floor of what he assumed was a cell or a lab of some sort. 

As he became more aware of his surroundings, he felt a finger tapping his cheek repeatedly and a panicked voice saying his name. “Lance? Lance?!”

He groaned again as he sat up. “I’m fine Hunk, don’t worry about me.”

“Dude, you were out for ages. I have the right to worry! I didn’t know if you were going to wake up, and you kept making weird noises-”

“Hunk, buddy, I get it. Sorry.” He looked around the room. It was empty, each of the walls a perfect square and blindingly white. “Are we the only ones here?”

“Yeah. Those furries took the others away and chucked us in here. I think we’re some sort of science experiment – there’s cameras in here as well.”

Lance looked towards the corners of the room and saw that there were, indeed, bulbous glass eyes observing them, almost silently whirring away as they unseeingly gazed upon the pair. “This is creepy.” He said to Hunk, who hummed in agreement. They were both still wearing their armour, yet Lance felt exposed and vulnerable knowing that his every movement was being watched from all angles by beings far more intelligent and colder than he.

“So, what now?” He asked uncertainly. 

As if to answer his question, the door opened, and a tall, angular figure loomed in the space revealed. Its multiple legs coolly clicked on the floor as it scuttled forward, the irregularity eerily reminiscent of the rise and fall of spiders’ legs back home on Earth. Lance shuddered.

The creepy-crawly lifted a device to its mouth and spoke. Its voice was clipped and sharp, yet it took big, shaky inhales between sentences. “Experiment 1, trial 39281. Subjects Hunk Garrett and Lance Charles McClain of Earth. Ages unknown. Allies of the rebellion.” 

“How does it know our names?” Hunk whispered.

The Ferreun turned to Lance. “You are Lance Charles McClain, who compromised his own well-being for Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, in the face of a thermal explosive. Correct?”

“How do you know that?” Lance asked.

The alien ignored him, speaking again into the device, “The subject Lance Charles McClain has shown examples of selfless behavioural tendencies in the past. We shall proceed with Lance Charles McClain.”

“Woah, why do you keep saying my full name? And what do you mean? What are you going to do with me?” Lance was growing increasingly scared as the Ferreun continued to ignore him.

“Social Experiment. Trial 39281. A test of self-sacrificing behaviour in natives to Earth. A test of the reaction of natives to Earth when a peer is in peril. Section 1 – side subject: Hunk Garrett.”

“Dude, what is he on about?!” Lance whisper-shouted to Hunk.

“It’s… going to do an experiment on us? Something about you sacrificing something? And testing our reactions? I don’t like this, man. Also, the fact that it’s like an actual daddy-long-legs doesn’t help.”

“Right?! I have arachnophobia! Could’ve been a bit more considerate…”

The alien observed them, raising the device once more. “Note: subject Lance Charles McClain has a fear of arachnids.”

“What? No!! No, no, no,” Lance laughed nervously. “I was joking, totally joking. In fact, I like spiders, adore the little creepy things, so you definitely shouldn’t make a note of that. Wouldn’t want you to mess up your experiment now, would we?”

“Note: subject Lance Charles McClain attempts to disguise his fear of arachnids.”

“I give up,” Lance groaned, face-palming exaggeratingly. 

“Begin.” The Ferreun turned to address Lance. Its eyes bulged out of its head, reminding Lance of the dome-shaped cameras in the corners of the room. “You have a choice. Who will be hurt? You or him.”

Lance stared at him “…What?” 

“You have a choice. Who will be hurt? You or him.”

“Lance, buddy, no, don’t choose yourself, come on- ” Hunk pleaded with him. 

Lance ignored him. “Me.” He said firmly. He wasn’t going to let Hunk be hurt. Out of everyone, he was glad he had the liberty of decision, even though the only person he could honestly choose was himself. He couldn’t put any of his friends in danger. Not when he could take it. 

“Lance, no! Choose me, they want you to choose yourself for their stupid experiment, stop being so goddamn selfless all the time- Lance!!” Hunk cried out as the Ferreun grabbed Lance by the arm and started to drag him out of the room, displaying almost superhuman (superferreun?) strength. 

“Hunk, it’ll be okay…” Lance started as he was taken away. “I chose this, it isn’t your fault, okay?” His voice increased in volume as, against his will, he was forced out of the cell. The panic set in as he was thrown into the room adjacent, exactly the same except with a pristine, white operating table in the centre. “H- Hunk!”

A team of Ferreun scuttled into the room, peeling off his armour and leaving him in the thin, grey undersuit. They manipulated his limbs with an iron grip, forcing them into metal cuffs protruding from the table that dug into his skin, and pressed a large ring of metal onto his head. It reminded Lance of the mind-melding headset that they had to wear for training in the Castle. He guessed it was probably to track his brainwaves or something nerdy. When it was finished, he was left alone and trembling on the cold, hard surface. 

The silence was apparent and crushing. It hit him that he was without his team, strapped in an unfamiliar environment, about to be experimented on somehow. It was paranoia-inducing and terrifying, yet in those moments he could only think of how glad he was that it was him in this situation, not Hunk. Hunk was so full of love and sunshine, seeing the joy that radiated off of him snuffed out was heart-breaking for Lance. He had known him since he was a child, new to America and unable to speak English, and Hunk was the only one kind enough to keep him company. Their friendship transcended language barriers, the challenges of the Garrison, and the terror of war and deep space. Lance wanted to keep his familiarity, his slice of home, safe, whatever the price to himself may be. 

He didn’t regret choosing himself. Hunk was the rain he missed so dearly, his favourite pastries his mother used to buy as a special treat, the beaches back in Cuba. He was a comforting face, a safe pair of arms, a grin that could light up the universe.

Lance smiled.

Then he screamed.

Electricity coursed through his body. His back curled away from the table and slammed back down again as his nerves were set alight. His mouth was glued open in an involuntary scream. It didn’t stop. The torture went on and on and on.

And in the room next door, gagged and wearing a headset of his own, Hunk rocked back and forth as his best friend’s screams pierced through the wall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so this was fun to write but I sort of hate it? It seems rushed to me and weird but I think I have to accept that I'm not happy with anything I write and my brain might be lying to me, unless this is actually rubbish lmao
> 
> Anyway yeah, this is pure self-indulgence because I'm a slut for langst :) I hope you enjoyed!


	2. Experiment 2: Katie Holt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge time!! Not only is platonic plance fun to say, it's also fun to write :)

Pidge was bored. She estimated that an hour and a half ago, she had been thrown into the cell. She had completed a self-examination of injury (it was over quickly. A yellowing bruise on her right knee. A headache. A sore neck. Done.) Half an hour in, a Ferreun had entered and forced a headset upon her head. She exhausted all possibilities of escape. Now here she was, an hour later, with nothing to do but recite the digits of pi.

3.1415926…

At …69399… the door finally opened. A Ferreun appeared, dragging a lanky figure by the arm. “Lance?” She asked, getting to her feet. The weird crustacean-arachnid looking thing dragged him forward, throwing him on top of her. She staggered backwards with Lance’s weight – he was much taller than her, and they both toppled to the floor.

“Ugh!” Pidge cried, Lance sprawled on top of her so she was unable to move. “Lance, why are you so noodly?”

“Sorry… Pidgeon.” He hoarsely laughed. 

She quickly crawled out from underneath him, alarmed by his voice and the lack of size-based insults coming her way. “Lance?” She climbed on top of him (not in a weird way, she reminded herself) and examined him. She faltered when she saw spider-y marks crawling up his arms where the undersuit had weathered away. “Oh my god!”

“Not quite,” He smirked at her, attempting to sit up. 

Pidge glared at him as she draped his arm over her shoulder, and with the help of the wall, he managed to sit up. “Stop acting so… like that! We’ve been captured by a race of advanced, apathetic spider freaks, and something has clearly happened to you.”

“Relax, Pidgey, it’s just to lighten the mood. And besides, I’m fine.” He assured her.

“Fine?! You’ve been electrocuted! I wouldn’t call that fine!” She shouted at him.

He frowned at her in confusion. “Wait… how do you know about that?”

She sighed and gestured to his arms. “Those marks on your arms that look like lightning or tree branches – they’re called Lichtenburg figures. They appear on surfaces that have had a high voltage running through them, including human flesh.” She looked as the swollen, red marks that wrapped around his visible forearms more closely. “And yours are very clearly new.”

Lance sighed dramatically. “You’re so smart. It’s tragic.”

She punched him lightly in the chest. “Shut up, noodle boy.”

“Oh, is that how you want to play it, gremlin?” He grinned at her as she giggled, unable to maintain her façade of mock offense. 

As he watched her laugh, he realised how much Pidge reminded him of Veronica. He used to always joke around with her back on Earth, and they’d tease each other constantly. Veronica was smart, independent and tough, able to fix any problem by thinking outside of the box and able to connect with special people through her engaging personality. Pidge was very much the same.

She was like the little sister he never had. Of course, he had Rachel (his twin), and his little niece, but out in the depths of space, he had all of the protectiveness and affection he held for them in his heart and was able to transfer it to Pidge. She often overworked herself, engrossed in a new project and neglectful of her own wellbeing. He’d taken it upon himself to regularly check up on her, ensure she was getting enough fluids and sleeping regularly. It made him feel more useful, and more of a part of the Voltron family, and often helped to cure his bouts of homesickness.

This was why, when the Ferreun returned, muttering into his device and telling him “You have a choice. You or her”, he had his answer straight away.

“Me.”

 

“…Lance?” Pidge asked. “What does he mean, you have a choice? And why did you answer? What did you do?”

“Pidge, it’s fine.” He assured her. “I had a choice of- of who they were going to hurt.”

“And you chose yourself.” Pidge said quietly, yet angrily. “Why did you choose yourself? You idiot. You already got hurt. You chose that as well, didn’t you?”

Lance hesitated. “…Maybe? Listen, Pidge. I can’t let you get hurt. You understand that, right? If it was you they asked, I know you’d choose yourself too, so don’t try to lecture me.”

“Why are you right? You’re an idiot. You’re right and amazing and brave, but you’re an idiot.” Pidge laughed, close to tears. “You’re so stupid and selfless, of course you’d choose yourself.”

Lance grinned at her. “You forgot rugged and handsome.” 

Her groan was twisted into a shout of alarm as Lance was dragged back and slammed against the wall. His struggling was futile as a thin yet powerful limb lay across his neck and forced his chin to point upwards and to the right, the other wielding a small syringe full of a dark, opaque liquid. Painfully, the thin needle pierced the skin of his neck. Lance squeezed his eyes shut and breathed shallowly, and the Ferreun pushed down on the syringe, forcing the agent into his bloodstream. 

He was released and crumpled to the floor, panting, as his attacker retreated out of the door. 

“Lance!” Pidge yelled, scrambling over to where he lay. His face was twisted in pain and his whole body twitched as the substance spread through his veins. Her hands hovered over him, unsure of what to do, how to help… deep in her mind a memory emerged from a documentary she’d once watched with Matt. It was about snake bites, and how to stop the spread of venom. She vaguely remembered how one dude had been bitten on the arm and held it above head height, so his circulation would be somewhat slowed in that area, and used something reminiscent of a tourniquet. Well, she couldn’t use a tourniquet around Lance’s neck, but maybe if she got him sitting up…? For the second time, she supported his body and guided him into a sitting position, until he was leaning heavily against the wall.

Seeing him bite back cries of pain, his hair plastered to his forehead and his extremities twitching, Pidge had never felt so helpless. She had no medical supplies, no teammates to help her, no outside opinion. They were just a teenage girl and her suffering brother on a faraway planet, in a solitary cell. Rare emotion overwhelmed her and she hugged him, forcibly holding back the tears from rolling down her cheeks. 

“You remind me of Matt,” she whispered, her voice muffled as she spoke into his neck. “He’d let himself get hurt for others too. You always brighten a room when you walk in, your jokes and personality take some of the tension out of the war. I wish you’d realise how important you are to us, to the team and the rebellion, then maybe you’d stop throwing yourself in the line of fire.”

She could feel his body relax against her, trembling like he was trying to suppress some kind of emotion. She hoped she hadn’t made anything worse.

“…I- I love you.” She smiled, letting all of her emotions tumble out of her in this uncommon display of vulnerability. “As a brother, as a friend, as a teammate. You’re amazing.”

They sat together, the silence fragile yet comfortable in the air as they listened to each other breathe, never wanting the tranquillity to end and the chaos to restart. But eventually, inevitably, the door slid open. 

“No,” Pidge shook her head, hugging Lance closer to her body. “Why? Why are you doing this to him?!”

The Ferreun looked at her coldly. “He is an experiment.”

“No, he’s not! He’s living, he breathes, he feels pain!” She argued loudly.

The Ferreun’s expression stayed stony. “I know.”

Pidge could do nothing but watch as another brother was taken from her, not knowing if she would ever see him alive again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone notice the Sherlock reference? No? Okay..
> 
> Anyway, their bond is fun to write about because of their sibling dynamic, especially because I set this before Pidge finds her brother and Lance goes to Earth :)
> 
>  
> 
> If you wouldn't mind, please drop a comment! It's super inspiring when I'm feeling down about my writing, and it gives me a warm, fuzzy feeling lol :D
> 
> Shiro next chapter, then Keith!


	3. Experiment 3: Takashi Shirogane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiro's turn! Yay!

This time before he was thrown into another occupied cell, they gave him time to recover in one of his own. His back pressed against the harshly cold wall, he filled his lungs with as much oxygen as he could in an attempt to steady his heartbeat and gather some of his currently meagre strength. The air tasted foreign, clean and clinical on his sandpaper tongue. He battled to keep his breathing under control, although his chest felt heavy under the impending panic he could sense.

In.  
And.  
Out.

In  
And  
Out.

In  
And Out.

In And Out.

In and out

In and out in and out in and-

Suddenly all the air in the cell ran out, his rough tongue aching for something to taste. His starving lungs heaved in stunted gasps, as everything around him disappeared in a haze of unbridled fear. He could feel his hands shaking, out of his control, but he still couldn’t breathe and his vision was going and oh Dios, was he going to die? He crawled weakly toward one of the walls in the cell that was smooth and black, reflecting his tear-streaked face, and slammed his hand on it with all his strength. The texture was like glass. “Help!” He shouted as loud as he could. “I- I can’t- ”

His wheezing filled his ears. “I can’t…”

In and-

 

***

When he woke up, a Ferreun towered over his body, staring down at him with distaste. “You are weak.” It spoke simply.

Lance couldn’t find the energy to protest. Would he have protested if he had been at full strength?

The Ferreun lifted the walky-talky to its mouth. “Subject Lance Charles McClain collapsed after Experiment 2, Trial 39281 from the combination of a panic attack and cardiovascular stress induced by electrocution and the injection of Ethylene Froldomide.”

“W- What?” Lance croaked.

The alien ignored him. “From Experiment 2, Trial 39281, side-subject Katie “Pidge” Holt comforted him using verbal communication.” It took a big, shaky breath and pressed a button on the device. “Experiment 3, Trial 39281. Subject Lance Charles McClain and side-subject Takashi Shirogane. A test on the effects of communication between two humans.”

“Shiro?” Lance looked around, but his cell only contained the Ferreun and himself. “Where is he?”

The Ferreun spoke directly to Lance now. “You have a choice. You-”

“Me.” Lance spoke immediately. He’d heard of the atrocities Shiro had endured with the Galra from the few attempts Shiro had attempted to open up to his team. And although he didn’t remember much, those few snatches of vulnerability had painted the picture for Lance. He would never let Shiro go through that again, especially if someone like Lance could take it instead. It didn’t matter if he got tortured. Not really. 

“Do not accept any comfort from Takashi Shirogane. If you do, there will be consequences for both of you.”

“What do you m-” Lance asked, before something large and blunt materialised in the Ferreun’s ‘hand’ and was brought down swiftly, knocking him out. 

***

Shiro didn’t know where he was being taken. He also didn’t want to find out.

When he’d been thrown into his cell, he’d immediately taken up an offensive position, ready to charge down anyone who entered the cell and make an escape. Then he’d realised that there were cameras, and since they could see him pressed against the wall next to the door ready to take enemies by surprise, they likely wouldn’t be very surprised. So he’d sat down. And done nothing else, until two Ferreuns had entered and easily overpowered him.

He couldn’t quite control his beating heart as the enemy marched him down brightly-lit corridors with an iron grip. They’d disabled his arm, too, so an escape was likely improbable at this point. Still, Shiro scanned his environment and enemies with a calculating eye, searching for a metaphorical chink in the armour. He just hoped it wasn’t another arena.

They shoved him into a room, longer than it was wide, with a large window sprawled across one of the longer walls. And through that window was- Lance. His back pressed against the wall and hyperventilating, Shiro could tell immediately something was wrong. He watched in horror as, shaking and terrified, Lance had crawled towards the window, slamming his hand against it with no sound. Shiro crouched down to speak to him, to reassure him, but his actions fell on deaf ears and blind eyes as he realised Lance couldn’t see through the window or hear him. Then he collapsed. 

Shiro turned to face the camera. “What did you do to him?!” He roared, rage overpowering his usually diplomatic tone. 

“He did this to himself.” A raspy voice echoed around the room. “We gave him a choice.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He asked sharply, but this time he received no answer. Instead, he was forced to watch as a Ferreun entered Lance’s cell and shocked him awake using a small metal object. “A- a defibrillator?” He questioned numbly. Or an alien version of it, anyway. 

“Yes.” The voice returned. “He is too weak; his heart can’t take much.”

Shiro was lost for words as he watched Lance wake up and talk with the alien looking down on him, confused when Lance’s expression went from scared to unsure to determined. He couldn’t hear any words through the thick pane of glass (or the Ferreun equivalent) but caught Lance’s lips mouth “Shiro” as he looked around frantically. 

Then the Ferreun hit his head and he was knocked out. Again.

Shiro’s fury kindled once more. “Why are you doing this to him?” He demanded. “Why am I here?”

The bodiless voice produced an imitation of a laugh, devoid of all humour or emotion. “We find unconscious subjects much easier to accessorise. And don’t worry Takashi Shirogane, you will have a use soon enough.”

Shiro hesitated. “…Accessorise?” He turned his gaze from the camera to the boy behind the window. His breath caught. Lance was being fitted with a shock collar. 

Shiro watched in horror as Lance was shocked back to consciousness, his mouth open in a silent scream. And again. And again. 

He saw red. “Let me in there!” Shiro screamed. “Let me help him!” 

The glass dropped.

-

Lance felt like he’d been set on fire. His whole body was in agony as the flames licked at his arms, his head, his chest… Hadn’t the Ferreun just said he’d suffered damage to his heart from electrocution? Why were they doing it again? ‘They don’t care about you’, his mind supplied unhelpfully. ‘They don’t care if you die. You’re just an experiment to them’. 

Lance knew it was true. The reality that he could die right here in this spotless cell surrounded by emotionless aliens hit him. He’d never see his family again. After his death, the others may not escape; the Ferreuns were an extremely technologically advanced race and had beaten the paladins easily. At least it was him. At least he was protecting them. Protecting Hunk, protecting Pidge, protecting Shiro… where was Shiro?

As if on cue, the glass on the far wall dropped and revealed the black paladin. Shiro ran forward, dropping to his knees next to Lance as electricity ran through his limbs. “Lance… Lance it’s ok, buddy. I’m here,” Shiro comforted him, reaching for his shoulder. 

The alien’s warning flashed through Lance’s mind, and he jerked away from Shiro before his hand could rest on him. 

“…Lance?” Shiro frowned at him, confused. “What’s wrong?”

Lance continued to crawl backwards as spasms shook him, shaking his head weakly. “N- no. Get… get back.” He hit the wall, and traversed it, still facing Shiro, until he was wedged in a corner. “Stay away.” He felt tears trail down his cheeks as he whispered, “Don’t touch me.”

“Lance…” Shiro could feel tears lining his own eyes as he took in the sight of the wilting boy, pressing himself into the wall, sobs wracking his body. “It’s ok. I won’t hurt you.”

Lance could only muster the strength to shake his head. The sight of the boy, head drooping and tears rolling off his cheeks, broke Shiro’s heart. He looked so young. He was so young. A wave of guilt overtook the older. However much he tried to shield the paladins - the children - from the inconceivable brutality of warfare they were constantly tangled in the violence, unable to escape, forced to kill and be hurt and stare death in the face. He didn’t mean to be patronising, but they were all much too young. They held so much naivety within, especially Lance. Shiro had noted the deterioration of his spirit, how the cheeky grins that embellished his face had decreased in number as he was moulded into the soldier the universe wanted him to be.

And as he helplessly watched the boy tremble like a cornered animal, he made a pact. That no matter what, the paladins would see their families again. He would make sure they could visit Earth and live like normal teenagers, where their biggest fear had been a test that they’d pulled an all-nighter for, or if their crush liked them back. When they escaped Ferreus, and finished the war, he vowed. They could be kids again.

A violent buzzing sound and a strangled scream ripped him out of his thoughts as Lance’s collar activated again, and out of instinct Shiro reached out. His human hand gripped the younger boy’s forearm firmly, pulling him close as his other arm rubbed his back in soothing circles. Lance began to relax, then remembered the warning he’d been given and stiffened, attempting to pull away. He was too late. 

Shiro’s Galra arm activated, burning Lance’s back where it had been resting. Shiro realised what had happened when he heard a scream and looked down toward his hand. He hadn’t even realised. It all felt the same to the robot part of him. He thought he had control of himself. What kind of leader was he? Before he knew it, he scrambled away from Lance and pressed his own back against the wall opposite, mirroring the same position the other had been in seconds ago. He gripped his forearm desperately. He’d hurt Lance. He was a monster. This was the arena all over again.

Lance stared at him in horror, his back pulsing with raw heat but his feelings faring even worse. Shiro had gotten hurt because of him. Not physically, but psychologically, because Lance couldn’t even last ten minutes without needing comforting. He was so stupid. 

“Shiro,” he rasped out. “Shiro.” He had to let him know it wasn’t his fault. The Ferreun had obviously hacked into Shiro’s arm, yet Shiro likely hadn’t worked that out as he seemed to be stuck in a flashback. The collar shocked him again, earning a worn-out scream that made Shiro’s charcoal eyes emerge from his tortured haze and lock with Lance’s.

“Lance,” Shiro muttered. “I’m so sorry.”

“No.” Lance shook his head desperately. “No, Shiro- ”

Shiro ignored him. “I’m a monster.” He whispered. Tears brimmed in his eyes. “Just like in the arena.”

“No!” Lance yelled hoarsely. “You’re not a monster, Shiro. You are the leader of Voltron and this. Isn’t. Your. Fault.” The collar activated again, and when he regained his breath, he continued. “The Ferreun hacked into your arm because you comforted me, which I wasn’t supposed to let happen. Whatever happened in the arena, that wasn’t you. And your arm doesn’t belong to you right now either. I don’t blame you, Shiro. I blame the Ferreun.” He added on the ‘and myself’ in his head because Shiro didn’t need to deal with his self-doubt right now. Stupid stupid stupid. 

“Thank you.” Shiro half-smiled, sounding stronger. “And Lance? You’re so strong for enduring all of this. You’re a worthy and pivotal member of Team Voltron. Don’t ever forget that. We’ll get out of here soon.”

A lump formed in Lance’s throat. “Yeah.” He said, not trusting himself to say anything more.

The two sat across from each other, afraid to touch, but never breaking eye contact.

Until Lance was taken away. 

It wasn’t over yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eek! Sorry this took so long! It's just I have a life (actually no, let me rephrase that)  
> It's just that I have tests coming up that I still haven't revised for hELP ME D;
> 
> Anyway! Some classic Shlangst to feed y'all, because this ain't Shiro's first rodeo ;)  
> He still feels pretty bad about hurting Lance, I wonder if he'll ever be able to apologise properly?
> 
> Mwahahahaha
> 
> If you enjoyed, please comment! Most people don't know that writers live off of attention, which actually can act as a substitute for all of the sleep they lose when they write into the wee hours of the morning 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	4. Experiment 4: Keith Kogane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Keith's turn...

Keith glared angrily at the mangled mess of metal at his feet. The camera in the corner of the room had been antagonising him, mostly due to his feelings of uselessness and frustration from being cooped up in the cramped cell for way too long. So, like anyone would, he threw his knife at it. The blade had needed several strikes to eventually hack down the technology that lay sparking on the floor, and now that it was, Keith had no idea what to do. 

His uncertainty angered him even more. What should he do? Should he escape? Were his teammates in danger? How could he save them? 

Gritting his teeth, he opted to collect his knife from where it lay, extended its length, and slashed at the door. If nothing was coming to get him, then he’d find them, goddammit, and make them pay. He felt his heart clench as he thought about his team, and sighed. He considered being a ‘lone-wolf’ easier than being a team player because the only person he’d have to worry about was himself. Now he was part of a Team Voltron, seven shoulders upon which the weight of the universe balanced. Concern for so many others was a new feeling for him. That feeling reared its head as he recalled the few seconds of battle he could remember before waking up here. Lance had stood and fallen right in front of him, having taken a heavy blow to the head, before Keith’s own vision went hazy and faded away. 

Exhaling sharply out of his nose, he kicked the door. Lance was probably just fine, sat in his own cell and feeling as useless as Keith. 

He was also worried about Shiro – given his previous experiences with imprisonment, it was perfectly natural. He hoped the solitude and circumstance hadn’t triggered any memories. 

He ceased his frustrated slashes at the door (not that it made a difference; the imperturbable surface still appeared untouched), and sat heavily on the floor, rubbing his face in his hands.

“I hate this,” he groaned into his palms. “I hate not knowing.”

A dry chuckle echoed from all corners of the room and Keith’s head shot up, his hand hovering about the hilt of his blade. The laugh sounded dry and raspy, pulling goosebumps from his skin and forcing a tense atmosphere to settle on the cell like dust. 

“That is easily explained.” The laugh had a voice. “You have an idiom from your planet. ‘Knowledge is power.’ We hold all of the power. You are powerless.”

Keith stood. He forced himself to stay silent, attempting to glare daggers at the bodiless voice.

“Nothing to say? You are the opposite of subject Lance Charles McClain.”

“Subject?” Keith’s blood ran cold. “What are you doing with Lance?”

Another laugh. “Commence Experiment 4, Trial 39281, with subject Lance Charles McClain and side-subject Keith Yorak Kogane.” 

“Experiment? What experiment?” Keith shouted. Against his will, he could feel his hands shaking. Were they not even prisoners to them, but guinea pigs? That was bad, definitely bad. Prisoners were somewhat useful. Test subjects were expendable. 

“You’ll see…” He could sense a twisted smile in the voice’s tone before it completely dissipated into silence. The quietness didn’t last for long however, as the door opened and… 

“Lance,” Keith breathed.

Keith was overjoyed to see him all in one piece but… that was about the only positive thing he could state about Lance’s condition right now. He seemed to have trouble standing, even propped up next to the Ferreun guard. Swollen, angry marks that wrapped around the visible skin on his arms were prominent and resembled lightning. His sweaty skin seemed much paler than usual, and his whole body seemed to be shaking. His armour, similarly, had undergone wear and tear – his left shoulder-piece tumbled off of his body as he was harshly shoved towards the red paladin. 

Keith caught Lance as the door closed. Whilst Lance’s legs managed to keep him upright, he leant heavily on Keith, who looked down to see the other boy’s eyes closing. 

“Lance?” He asked tentatively. When he received no response save a shudder that ran through Lance’s body, his concern grew. “Okay, um… let’s sit down.” 

Keith not-so-gracefully descended, ending up with his back against the wall (he felt safer that way) and his legs outstretched before him. Between them sat Lance, leaning back onto Keith’s chest. The red paladin immediately felt out of his comfort zone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever had this much contact with someone. And, he remembered, Lance had sustained a head injury. Which meant he couldn’t let him fall unconscious; he recalled that from the Garrison First Aid courses. That meant he’d have to hold a likely one-sided conversation. Great. 

“So…” Keith started, racking his brains for something, anything, to say. “…What happened?” He cursed his lack of tact, but Lance’s eyes had fluttered open.

“I- I don’t know,” he groaned as he shifted his head slightly. “A lot of things happened.”

“What are these?” Keith asked, lightly touching Lance’s forearm, his fingers brushing the myriad of jagged lines that sprawled across his skin.

“Oh, Pidge said they were called… I don’t know what they’re called. They’re because of the electrocution.”

“The electrocution…” While the time he’d had to wait had seemed agonisingly long to Keith, in reality he hadn’t been kept here for that long. What had they done in such a short space of time to his teammate? “Lance, what did they do to you?”

“I told you, a lot of things. They electrocuted me and burned me and hit me and d-drugged me and Keith I don’t- I don’t know if I can do it again. Keith I can’t, I can’t, I c-” Lance was cut off by a choking sob. His hands, which had been running through his hair agitatedly, scrabbled at his chest plate as tears dripped down his cheeks. “G- get it off me, please.” His fingers dug desperately at the clasps in his armour. “I can’t breathe.”

“Shit- Lance it’s ok. Don’t worry… you won’t have to go through that again, ok? I’m here now.” Keith comforted him as he removed the front plate of Lance’s armour, setting it on the ground next to him. He had no idea if his assurances were comforting in the slightest; both knew he was incapable of winning against an army of smarter, stronger, apathetic individuals. He fully intended to try. “I won’t let them do that again.”

‘You can’t stop them,’ Lance thought… 

‘I can, though.’

That moment of realisation lingered in his head. He could choose Keith. He’d never do that to him, of course, but… what if he did? He’d already taken three punishments. He’d been bruised, burned, battered, beaten… Keith could take a fraction of his suffering. Why should Lance have to keep hurting over and over and over again? He wasn’t sure his body could take any more abuse, but Keith was looking fit as ever. This justification, however unjust, however selfish, made sense to Lance. 

Keith, unaware of Lance’s internal conflict, continued to comfort him, assuming his distress stemmed from the previous torture he had suffered and not the possibility of inflicting it upon his teammate. 

The cell door slid open with a slight ‘hissss’. Obstructing the fresh light pouring into the room, towered a familiar silhouette. 

Keith tensed, ready to run at the Ferreun. Lance, with a surprising amount of strength, pressed his arm backwards, slamming his elbow into Keith’s chest, momentarily pressing him to the wall as his confusion kept him immobile. 

“Choose.” The familiar word boomed from the figure. 

Lance hesitated. He didn’t want to be hurt again. He’d been through hell and survived. But could he just give up now? Accept his pain, quit the race and pass on the baton of agony to his unsuspecting teammate? He couldn’t do that to Keith. ‘Fit, ready, able Keith,’ his mind whispered. 

Lance’s gaze flickered past the Ferreun towards the door. A sliver of light leaked into the room, taunting what he couldn’t have. He turned his head towards Keith, looking deep into his eyes, willing him, begging him to understand. 

Using Keith’s shoulder, he pushed himself up, leaning on the wall as he addressed the Ferreun. “Why do you give me a choice? To experiment on me? To watch my resolve slowly crumble? To watch me flounder in the weight of my decision?” With each question, he took an unsteady step towards the alien. “Or is it just to watch me suffer? A question to excuse your torture in the name of science? Because your cruelty makes you finally fucking feel something?” He was a metre away now. 

“Choose.” 

Lance took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut in resignation. 

“Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so sorry I've been gone so long! My absence has been due to a lot of things (school, lack of motivation, plus I'm a really slow writer...) but I kept seeing kudos popping up on my screen so I finally decided to buckle down and finish this chapter! Sorry if it wasn't worth the wait lol, the first bit is kinda bad, but I think it improves. I also decided to extend the story a liiiitle bit to flesh it out, so look out for a possible escape attempt in the next chapter?? (that hopefully won't take months to write lmao)
> 
> I PROMISE THERE'S A VALID REASON TO HIM SAYING KEITH OK (other than me wanting to break free from the cyclical structure I created and make the story more interesting)
> 
> Bye for now! Thank you so much for all your kudos and sweet comments, they're really motivating x


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